Closure
by KipperandSpice
Summary: After the war Harry realizes that he needs closure with the Dursleys. He learns that Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle have told them everything that has happened to him the past seventeen years, and does not know what to expect when he shows up on their porch
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first dabble at FanFiction! Therefore I appreciate any and all reviews and feedback so that I can improve in any area that needs it. Also, since it is my first story it will only be about three chapters long most likely. Harry realizes that he needs closure with the Dursleys. He learns that Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle have told them everything that has happened to him the past seventeen years, and does not know what to expect when he shows up on their porch. Also to include insight on The Dursleys's time in hiding. I do not own anything having to do with Harry Potter.**

Chapter 1:

Harry Potter stood by the mailbox of Number Four Privet Drive gazing blankly at the house that it belonged to. Across the street a neighbor watered his grass, wiping his brow against the unforgiving mid-July heat, and farther down the block Harry could hear the sound of someone mowing their lawn. The birds around him chirped merrily, quite oblivious to the inner conflict Harry was struggling with.

It had been slightly more than two months since the Battle of Hogwarts was won and Voldemort had been vanquished forever. Harry had seen several weeks of peace and weightlessness before a tiny nagging feeling had crept into his mind. He had impatiently ignored the feeling at first, spending time at the Burrow playing Quidditch with Ron, discussing their futures with Hermione, and sneaking off with Ginny whenever time permitted. However it continued to grow from the back of his mind until Harry had reluctantly risen before dawn and traveled to the Ministry one gloomy morning about week ago. He remembered that day quite clearly;

Harry walked quickly past the welcome desk after being waved past by the wizard working at it. Keeping his head down for the most part he occasionally waved or nodded as wizards and witches gave cries of excitement and recognition as he passed. As Harry sped towards the lifts he noticed that the sickening statue that had declared "Magic is Might" had already been removed from the middle of the atrium, and Harry stopped with a jolt as he saw the statue that had replaced it.

Brandishing a wand above his head and clutching the sword of Gryffindor in his other hand stood a statue of Harry himself, his face frozen in a look of determination, scar visible on his forehead. On his right stood a resolute looking Hermione, clutching a spell-book in addition to her wand. On his left stood Ron, gritting his face in concentration, wand at the ready and deluminator in hand. Each of their wands was glowing brightly and unwavering at the tip.

The Trio was surrounded by a golden fountain and as Harry moved even closer he could read the plaque at the base which read "'There is hope in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light' –Albus Dumbledore". Harry felt a jolt of emotion as he read this and took a few moments to compose himself before continuing towards the lifts. Inside, he kept his head down until reaching The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. From there Harry hurried past busily working employees until he reached a door with a plaque that read "Hestia Jones; Supervisor" and ducked inside.

Hestia looked up surprised as he entered, but smiled as she saw who he was. "Ah Mr. Potter, I was wondering when to expect a visit from you. Personally I would have never given them a second thought, I mean what dreadful muggles, really! But Mad Eye always said you were too noble for your own good." She gazed at him expectantly. Startled by her immediate understanding of his reason for being there and her mention of Mad Eye Harry found himself temporarily at a loss for words. "Er…yeah.."

"Do sit down," said Hestia briskly shuffling through some papers on her desk. "Ah, here we are…"

Harry sat in the chair across from her as she extracted a piece of paper from the pile and quickly scanned it. Then setting it down and folding her hands on the desk she turned her full attention to Harry. "Now Mr. Potter, as you and I both know you are here reluctantly to find out what became of your Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin during the months that they were in hiding while you ran around saving the entire wizarding world. Why you would even give a fleeting thought to people like that lot I may never know" she said shaking her head. "However, I can inform you that they were very safe during the duration of this time, and as soon as we got notice that the battle had been won they were returned to their original residence in Little Whinging. And I must say I was not at all sorry to see the back of them for good."

Harry felt a small piece of his mind that he had not realized was tensed relax as she spoke. Why he had even cared about the well-being of those who had made his childhood miserable he could not explain. Maybe Mad-Eye had been right by saying that he was too noble for his own good, because Harry highly doubted that the Dursleys had even given him a second thought once they drove away from Privet Drive, and were most likely more concerned with whether the hedges had grown too much while they were away.

Hestia watched Harry silently as he processed this and now gave a slow nod of understanding as he looked up. She opened her mouth and hesitated, looking down at the paper before speaking again. "As you know Dedalus Diggle was also assigned with me to watch over your…relatives" Harry nodded and she continued. "As I'm sure you have noticed he has always been a rather avid fan of yours Mr. Potter, and he doesn't exactly hide this enthusiasm."

Harry allowed a small smile, remembering Dedalus's enthusiasm from the few times they had met before Hestia continued. "During the time that we stayed with your relatives, Dedalus and I discovered just how little they knew about our world and your involvement in it." With a scowl on her face now Hestia continued darkly, "While I was perfectly content to ignore them and allow them to remain ignorant and wrapped up in their own miserable lives, Dedalus took it upon himself to educate them and try to make them see you in the way that he does."

Harry chortled in spite of himself at the thought of Uncle Vernon worshiping him in the way Dedalus did. Hestia smiled wryly, knowing what he was thinking, but a small frown creased on her forehead as she continued. "While your Aunt and Uncle never commented about Dedalus's stories and explanations, they always seemed to listen to what he had to say. And occasionally your Aunt especially would seem to react to what she heard in some subtle way or another, by turning pale or flinching. But since neither of them ever commented…" she trailed off looking out the window. With a sigh she looked back at Harry. "Well, who knows."

Harry was rather surprised by this information, as he had been sure that Uncle Vernon would try to drown out anything having to do with Harry, as would Aunt Petunia. But as he thought about this a tiny memory wormed its way back into his head as he remembered the day they had parted, and how Aunt Petunia's hesitation and how she had seemed to want to say something to him. Thinking of this brought back another memory that he had previously pushed aside of his cousin shaking his hand, telling him he didn't think he was a waste of space.

"What about Dudley?" Harry asked Hestia, surprised when her face softened slightly for the first time since she had begun speaking. "Your cousin was…different than your Aunt and Uncle" she replied hesitantly. "While he had a disgusting habit of allowing them to treat him like a baby, he always intently listened to what Dedalus had to say, or" she frowned "at least I think he was intently listening. He looked rather like an ogre with his mouth slightly open like it was," Harry smirked at this comment "and he even occasionally asked a couple of questions."

This brought back the same feeling of confusion that Harry had felt on the day Dudley had shaken his hand, and once again he wondered whether the dementor attack so many months ago had blown a new personality into Dudley. Hestia seemed to be thinking along the same lines, for she asked Harry curiously about how he had saved Dudley's life a few summers ago. After answering her question he politely dismissed himself, rising to leave the office and bidding her thanks and farewell. However as he stood and walked to the door she seemed to be trying to decide whether to say something or not, and as he reached for the handle she said "One moment please Mr. Potter" and he turned to face her, confused.

"I do not believe that the people who treated you so horribly for so many years deserve so much as a letter from someone as noble and heroic as you" she said fiercely. "However…" she hesitated "Their reluctant allowance of you to stay in their house for seventeen years kept you protected, no matter how unprotected and miserable you felt. And it seems to me as though you are still in need of some kind of closure, for one reason or another." She sighed and met Harry's startled gaze steadily "I believe that only if you visit them one final time will that feeling you have go away for good, so that you can continue the rest of your life in peace. And Merlin knows you deserve to finally have some peace. Good day to you Mr. Potter." And with that she turned back to the papers on her desk and began briskly sorting through them again.

After leaving Hestia's office and the Ministry, Harry returned to The Burrow feeling even more confused than he had been when he left that morning, and slightly angry as well. He knew that Hestia was right, and he could not understand why he felt anything for the relatives that he had never been able to call family. However after a week of avoiding it Harry finally accepted the inevitable, and on a hot and sunny afternoon he found himself once again on the steps of Number Four Privet Drive, gazing down at the stoop that he had been left on as an infant. With a sigh he carelessly ran his hand through his hair staring at the door.

And knocked.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed, Favorited, and followed! I received some very helpful feedback after the first chapter. As I mentioned before, this is going to be a rather short story, so it will probably only be about five chapters max. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

Chapter 2:

Petunia Dursley bustled around her crisp white kitchen, adjusting a pot here, flicking away a tiny piece of lint there. It had been more than two months since The Dursleys had returned warily to their house on Number Four Privet Drive, and though she had not slept for the first several days after their return, cleaning and scrubbing away the layers of dust and filth that had gathered in their absence, she was still convinced that she had missed a couple spots.

Pausing for a moment to wipe her brow, she heard the sound of the mid-afternoon Saturday news that Vernon was watching in the sitting room. After returning to the house, Vernon had promptly set about making the entire family forget the ordeal had ever happened, forcing Dudley to unpack everything the very night they got back, and confiscating a box of the candy Dedalus Diggle had called "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans" that he found stowed away at the bottom of Dudley's suitcase.

The next morning he had dressed in his very best suit and driven to Grunning's Drill Company to try to get his job as director back, armed with the excuse that they had been put in the witness protection program for witnessing a violent crime and had not been allowed to contact anyone at the risk of their safety. He had returned that evening jovially proclaiming that he was once again a working man, and had since then pretended that they had never left the house in the first place.

After listening for a few minutes to a news story about a large office building in London that had mysteriously collapsed several months ago and was finally reconstructed and open to the public once more, Petunia moved to the fridge to rearrange its contents again.

As she opened the fridge she felt the recently familiar jolt of surprise as she observed that most of the healthy food was gone and the junk food was barely touched. This had been an unfamiliar change since they had returned, as in the past usually the opposite would have been said about the contents of the fridge. However since they had gotten back, Dudley had begun a series of drastic changes, one of which being his diet.

Rather than slipping back into his old routine of spending afternoons out with his friends and then returning to snack in front of the television with Vernon, Dudley now spent most of his time in his room, researching job opportunities and even exploring his options when it came to furthering his education, which were sadly very limited due to Dudley's dreadful previous marks in school. Nevertheless, he had already gotten himself several interviews for random jobs around the area without Vernon or Petunia's help. This would have had both Petunia and Vernon bursting with pride, were they not so disturbed by these drastic changes in their son.

Perhaps most concerning of all had been the time Petunia had walked upstairs to find the door to the smallest bedroom wide open. As this door had been left firmly shut since their return, Petunia had fearfully tiptoed into the room only to find Dudley standing in the middle of it gazing around with an almost forlorn expression on his face. After looking around at Petunia's sharp gasp of surprise and realizing that he had been caught, he had given an odd sort of shrug and sheepishly lumbered from the room, leaving Petunia quite stricken as she gazed around the one room that she had refused to clean.

After this incident Petunia firmly locked the door to the smallest bedroom, determinedly pushing away the memories that began to creep into her mind by doing this. She did not give Vernon an explanation for this action, nor had he asked.

Her sorting of the refrigerator done, Petunia closed the door with a snap and walked to the kitchen window, pulling aside the curtains slightly to see what the neighbors were doing on such a hot and sticky day. She had been slightly disgruntled by the neighbors' plain indifference to the fact that their whole family had disappeared without a word for months and then miraculously returned one day as if they had never left.

Although she was relieved that none of them suspected anything, Petunia would have liked to have been shown at least a slight sign that they had been missed. In fact, the only neighbor that showed any enthusiasm for their return was Mrs. Figg, who lived a little ways down the street from the Dursleys and greeted their return in a positively jubilant manner, a reaction that left Petunia feeling puzzled and suspicious rather than welcomed.

As she made to go upstairs and clean the master bathroom for the fifth time that week, Vernon called out from the sitting room. "Petunia will you check and see if my old blazer is in the cupboard? I couldn't find it in the closet earlier." Halfway down the hall, Petunia froze and slowly turned to look behind her at the small cupboard under the stairs, staring at it as if it would suddenly open its door and swallow her up.

The cupboard was now used to hold old coats and boxes of Christmas ornaments, but as Petunia timidly opened the door she could only remember the use they'd had for it for eleven years. Staring into the tiny space that one little boy with jet black hair had once called home, Petunia could no longer repress the memories that she had been pushing back since returning to Privet Drive.

At first Petunia had tried to drown out Dedalus Diggle's enthusiastic accounts of The Boy's achievements and adventures. But when Dudley began to hang onto every word and even ask the cracked little man questions, she decided that she should hear what ridiculous nonsense her son was being exposed to. Maybe it had been the boredom and lack of contact with the outside world that had twisted her mind, but Petunia had found herself just as drawn in by the stories as her son, though she would never admit it. Moreover, as she listened she began to feel the same unfamiliar feeling of guilt that she had experienced once before, as she gazed at The Boy for one final time before leaving the house and him behind.

Surely the stories that Diggle told them were exaggerated and inflated by his odd hero worship for The Boy. It did not seem possible in Petunia's narrow and sheltered mind that anyone could come so close to death so many times, and still return to Privet Drive every summer seemingly untouched.

And yet he had returned. After the deaths of people he cared about, after fighting and defeating any number of ghastly creatures, even after facing and almost being killed by the same person who had killed his own parents, who had killed _Lily_.

And as Petunia thought of her younger sister she began to realize for the first time that she had taken her jealousy of her sister way too far. Her narrow mind began to widen with the feelings of guilt and confusion that so unwelcomingly began to fill it, and her heart began to ache in a way she had not let it in many years.

Forcefully closing the door to the cupboard with a snap and rubbing her now aching temples, Petunia began to head upstairs again, fully intending on taking a full dosage of Advil and taking a nap, after which hopefully the disturbing thoughts that now plagued her would be pushed away again to the back of her mind where they belonged.

But as she reached the first step and began to ascend, she heard a knock at the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi guys! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed. Your support means a ton. I know all of you are excited for the chapter when that darn door is finally answered (hehe) and it's coming soon I promise. The next chapter in Vernon's point of view will be pretty short, and then we'll get to the part you've all been waiting for! Reviews are greatly appreciated :) I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter 3:

Dudley Dursley sat at his desk, a frown stretched across his rather large face. He had not even realized that he owned a desk until returning to his room and cleaning out everything that was useless, broken, and generally cluttering. He had been quite pleased to find it though, and it now held a large amount of paperwork and notes.

Scratching his head Dudley glanced at the picture frame on his desk, which had previously contained a picture of his adolescent idol, a superhero, whom he had completely forgotten about.

Dudley had returned to Privet Drive a changed man. Gone were the days of doing nothing but eat, sleep, watch television, and bully some unsuspecting kid with his gang. In fact, he had not even contacted any of his old friends since his return.

This change had not come abruptly, but almost having your soul sucked out of you by something you could not even see, and then having your cousin who you had previously tortured for years save you without a second thought tends to prompt gradual changes.

Dudley had never been stupid. Sheltered, spoiled, and lazy, but never stupid. He simply had never needed to use his brain, as his parents never punished him for getting bad grades and he was allowed to play video games and watch television all day.

The first year after Harry had saved him, Dudley went through a period of shock. Although his parents tried to spoil him and pamper him more than ever, Dudley found himself pushing them away as he tried to understand the new thoughts and feelings that were filling his mind. By the time Harry returned for his final summer at Privet Drive, Dudley had realized that these new feelings included guilt and awe, and tried to figure out what to do with them.

Before he could decide what he was going to say to Harry however, visitors from Harry's world came to Privet Drive, bringing with them grave news and the instructions that the Dursleys must go into hiding. While his parents fumed and worried about the house, what the neighbors would think, Vernon's job, and being "forced into the company of freaks" as his mum put it, Dudley was trying to understand the meaning behind the apparent danger they were in. He could not understand why Harry was not coming with them, when it seemed he was in the most danger out of all of them.

" _I don't understand."_

" _What don't you understand, popkin?"_

" _Why isn't he coming with us?"_

" _Well…he doesn't want to…you don't want to do you?"_

" _Not in the slightest."_

Dudley didn't blame Harry for not wanting to come with them after all the miserable years that he had been forced to endure, but he still could not understand what Harry was going to do, and although he knew he was disturbing his parents, in that moment he did not care.

" _Don't these people know what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement?"_

" _Er, no they don't. They think I'm a waste of space actually, but I'm used to-"_

" _I don't think you're a waste of space."_

And Dudley had meant it. Even with his parents staring at him as though he'd grown another pig's tail, Dudley meant every word as he tried to find a way to thank the person who had saved his life. But as Harry stared at him in bewilderment, Dudley was suddenly too embarrassed continue, and had retreated from the house after shaking Harry's hand.

The first week after settling into their new house, Dudley had troubled over the concept that still confused him, allowing his parents to believe that the frown that now constantly rested on his face was due to them being "kept in the loony bin" as they put it. But finally Dudley could hold it in no more, and on a rainy afternoon when they were all sitting in the living room watching television he got up his courage to address the short bouncy man who called himself Dedalus Diggle.

"Excuse me, Mr. Diggle?"

His parents had both flinched and stared around in confusion, as Dedalus happily turned his attention to the massive boy before him.

"How can I help you?" He asked quite cheerfully.

"Why did he…why did _Harry_ , not come with us? I thought he was in the most danger from this guy we're hiding from. So why is he not in hiding too? Is he at a different house?"

Vernon had gritted his teeth and firmly turned his attention back to the television, while Petunia looking horrified hid herself behind a magazine which trembled in her hands. Dudley was just happy that neither of them tried to get him to shut up, or told Dedalus not to answer.

And Dedalus _had_ answered. He had immediately launched into the tale of a terrible wizard called "You-Know-Who" and the reason for Harry's need to come to Privet Drive in the first place. But he did not stop there. Excitedly Dedalus had told the stories of Harry's adventures while at school, about how many times he had come face to face with death and won, about the tragedies and losses he had encountered along the way, and finally about his speculations of what Harry, The Chosen One, would do now, and how he would finally defeat the great evil that endangered them all.

And Dudley had listened to all of it in rapt attention, drinking it all in with almost as much enthusiasm as Diggle himself. Harry's adventures and conquests put every movie and television show Dudley had ever watched to shame, and he made superheroes look like weaklings. Dudley actually quite enjoyed the months they spent in hiding, as he pestered a very willing Diggle for stories about his cousin involving chambers and graveyards and tournaments and government conspiracies, and all kinds of creatures.

Dudley's parents did not say a word throughout this, perhaps too afraid to object when there were two fully grown wizards in the room with them. He did not know if they listened, as he was taught about the world that they had prohibited from being mentioned, and quite frankly he was to enamored to care.

Dudley was no longer afraid of his cousin; Harry was his hero.

One night Hestia Jones had left the house quite abruptly, ordering Dedalus to stay behind and stay alert as they exchanged meaningful glances. Dudley had realized that this must be it, and though he questioned Diggle about whether he was right, for the first time Dedalus refused to answer his questions. The next morning a battered, yet triumphant Hestia had returned and exclaimed that Harry had done it, You-Know-Who was dead and The Dursleys were free to return home.

His parents were ecstatic to finally leave the house and the two wizards behind and return to their lives, immediately marching into the house upon arrival without a glance back. But Dudley felt rather lost as he had stared at the familiar house on Privet Drive, and realized that he did not want to return to the boring world he had once lived in. After thanking Hestia for her protection and receiving a smile and pat on the back in return, Dudley had turned to Dedalus, whose usually happy demeanor was for once miserable.

Through their mutual idolizing of Harry and enthusiasm for his amazing accomplishments, both had become quite close over the past few months, and Dudley realized that he was saying goodbye to a friend.

"Well I guess I had better be off now, lots of rebuilding and celebrating to do I suppose" Diggle had said smiling halfheartedly.

"I wish that I could see what partying is like in the wizarding world" Dudley muttered wistfully. "But thank you for keeping us safe and for…Well thanks for everything Dedalus."

And with that the ever enthusiastic and dramatic Dedalus had burst into tears and hugged Dudley around the waist, or around as much of his waist as he could reach, his top hat quivering on his head. Dudley had hugged him back, and for the first time in many years he felt the urge to cry; real tears-not the ones he used to cry to get his way with his parents.

"I don't suppose," Dedalus had begun as he pulled away sniffling and adjusting his waistcoat;

"I don't suppose you would be inclined to stay in touch would you? I am very fond of writing letters you see, but I daresay receiving owl post would be too much of a hassle for you?" he asked looking at Dudley hopefully.

Without a second thought Dudley had fervently agreed. After one last awkward hug and the promise to write soon, Dedalus had apparated away as Dudley shuffled into the house and headed straight to his room.

Dudley smirked as he leaned back in his desk chair and gazed out the window. His parents of course had no idea that he was staying in touch with "one of the freaks", as Dedalus's eager pygmy owl only came at nighttime. They never seemed to run out of things to say, and Dedalus was quite excited with Dudley's current project which he worked on all day locked in his room and sometimes all night. It had been Dedalus who had gotten permission for Dudley to work on this project from the Minister of Magic himself and the Department of Muggle Relations.

Through their letters Dudley had also learned what most of the wizarding world knew about the final battle which had occurred at Harry's own school, but he was aching to hear the sides of it that Dedalus did not know, the sides that only Harry could tell.

Sighing, Dudley glanced at the picture frame again. He had known that the chances of Harry ever returning to Privet Drive were laughable, but he still held on to the hope that one day he would see his cousin again and maybe, just maybe, prove to him that he was ready to be the family member that he always should have been.

With his stomach growling Dudley got up to grab a quick healthy snack from the kitchen, resolving to continue working when he came back, and as he opened the door of his room he heard a knock on the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The last time you have to hear that blasted knock on the door! But I couldn't leave out ole' Vernon now could I ;) Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed. Your support is very much appreciated. Please continue to review! I love feedback! Without further ado, here's Vernon's chapter.**

Chapter 4:

Vernon Dursley sat stiffly on the couch, eating a random assortment of food he had grabbed from the refrigerator and determinedly staring at the television. Although he had no interest in the news currently broadcasting, watching television and eating snacks all day was something he had done every single Saturday in this house, and he would be damned if he did not return everything to the way that it was.

Unfortunately his wife and son were not as set as he was in putting the ordeal behind them and pretending it had not happened. While Petunia had immediately resumed her daily activities of cooking, spying on the neighbors, cleaning, and gossiping on the phone, all of it seemed forced and mechanic and he often caught her staring off into the distance for several minutes before continuing to bustle around the house.

Dudley's behavior was even more concerning. Vernon had always declared to those who criticized Dudley that any son of his would eventually buck up and become as successful as himself. Not until Dudley began to take responsibilities the moment they had returned did he realize that he had never actually believed it. This put a damper on Vernon's pursuit of returning normalcy to the household, as Dudley now spent most of his time in his room, rather than parked in front of the television eating his way through a month's worth of food.

Vernon glanced away from the news to look in disgruntlement at the empty couch that Dudley's hulking figure usually occupied. He could hear Petunia rummaging around in the fridge and considered going to get more snacks, but decided not to just in case Petunia was unnervingly lost in thoughts again, and instead turned his gaze back to the television.

Truth be told Vernon was _bored._ The majority of the time The Dursleys had spent in That Place, they had been cooped up inside watching television and sitting around doing nothing. The two crackpots who had brought them there only allowed them to venture outside to go to the local supermarket or run quick errands about once a week. The first few weeks Vernon had silently fumed, and mulishly tried to ignore anything the freaks said.

Unfortunately for him his son was not adopting the same tactics, and Dudley kept asking them questions for some ludicrous reason. Vernon had wanted to forbid them to answer, or forbid Dudley from asking, but he could not quite work up the nerve to confront both of them. He did not think that they would be as easily shut up as The Boy had been.

By the third week however, Vernon had become so bored and stir crazy that he had begun to listen to the insane stories that his wife and son were listening to. Surely neither of them believed the tales that were coming out of the insane little man's mouth. Some of the things he was saying about The Boy were completely bonkers. No, Vernon did not believe a word of it, but decided to listen if only to keep himself from going crazy from boredom. He certainly did not want to end up as insane as the crackpot who was telling the stories.

When they had all returned home, Vernon had happily closed the door in both of the freaks faces without so much as a thank you, and set off upstairs to resume his life as if nothing had happened. Any fairy tales that he had heard about The Boy and that freak show of a world were instantly banished from his mind, and he ensured that any bizarre items that had made their way into his household were also disposed of.

Hearing Petunia padding down the hallway he called out to ask her to check the cupboard for a blazer he had misplaced. He had meant to look for it earlier, but every time he passed that cupboard the blazer always seemed to slip his mind, and he had no desire to open it.

An image of messy jet black hair suddenly crept into his mind and he gritted his teeth, viciously twisting at his mustache. Unfortunately there was another reason why this summer was not going as it normally had. The absence of The Boy was, for the most part, absolutely blissful. However the lack of yelling himself hoarse at The Boy was disconcerting, and though he took out these frustrations on his employees at work, he never could quite turn that exact shade of purple, and the vein in his neck no longer pulsed out of his skin.

Angrily banishing these thoughts from his mind, Vernon returned his attention to the television, determined to listen to the next news story.

Just as he was beginning to actually pay attention to the story however, he heard a knock at the door. Grumbling about it being way too hot for visitors, Vernon Dursley hauled himself off the couch and stomped into the hallway to answer the door.

* * *

 **Next up, what you've all been waiting for!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Its July 27th! On this day in 1997 in Harry Potter history, Harry and the Dursleys said goodbye and went their separate ways, doubting they'd ever see each other again. So it's only fitting I post this particular chapter today. As always thank you to all who follow, favorite, review, and pm. Y'all are the best! I originally thought that this was going to be five chapters max, but I had some epiphanies so it magically became longer ;3. As it is, there will only be two, maximum three, chapters left. Here we go!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter 5:

Harry lowered his hand and took a step back from the door, gazing absentmindedly around at the pristine lawn baking in the heat. The Dursleys had certainly not wasted time in getting the house back in shape. Wryly he wondered who they had hired to do all the lawn work for them, now that they could no longer use him to get the job done.

Lost in thought about the many sweltering afternoons he had spent slaving over these hedges, Harry did not hear the key fumbling in the lock and snapped his head back to the door in surprise when it was wrenched open. He had half hoped that for some odd reason The Dursleys were not home for the first time on a Saturday afternoon, but this hope slipped away as he found himself face to face with Uncle Vernon.

The shocked look on his uncle's face slowly sunk into a sneer as he sized Harry up on his front porch. Harry felt his back straighten as he coldly met Uncle Vernon's glare and gave a curt inclination of his head before addressing him.

"Vernon. Good afternoon."

Vernon smirked, narrowing his piggy eyes.

"Oho so that's how it's going to be now boy eh? You defeat some 'you know whatything' and suddenly you're fit to show up on my front porch again and act as if you own the place? Well I'll not stand for it. Never again will I make the same mistake as last time we found you on this porch!"

But as Vernon made to slam the door in his face, Harry heard a lighter patter of feet approaching the door from the hallway, and Aunt Petunia appeared behind Vernon, her face white and shocked as she gazed at him. But as she took in the scene before her, her lips thinned and she straightened herself up firmly.

"Let him in Vernon." She spoke with a finality that neither Harry nor Vernon had expected, and both stared at her in astonishment.

"But Petunia dear, he-"

"You're letting in hot air Vernon and besides the neighbors will see. Let him in and close the door now" Petunia snapped.

With a glower Vernon stepped aside and Harry walked into the cool, spotless foyer, gazing around at the familiar setting as Vernon closed the door with a snap and turned to glare at him, crossing his arms forbiddingly. But Harry only had eyes for Petunia as she dropped her firm demeanor and stared at the ground, her thin lips trembling.

Harry, briefly wondering if he was trapped in an alternate universe, struggled to think of something to say, but before he could come up with something he heard his name shouted from the top of the stairs.

Yes, he was definitely in an alternate universe he decided, because in the real world Dudley would never be so thrilled to see him. He watched bewildered as his cousin practically bounded down the stairs to greet him, stopping right in front of him and beaming while reaching out to shake his hand.

"Blimey Dudley" said Harry as he shook his cousin's rock-like hand, "I thought for sure that new personality the dementors blew into you would have worn off by now."

Dudley grinned at Harry, shaking his head "Nope, I'm afraid it's here to stay! I don't think mum and dad are too pleased about it though" he said smirking as he glanced at his parents. "But what are you doing here Harry? I had hoped you would visit, but I never thought that you actually would" Dudley said, looking at Harry so eagerly that he reminded him of someone whom he couldn't quite bring to mind at the moment.

"Well, er… I just wanted to see that you had made it back and..."

But taking in Dudley's enthusiastic expression Harry suddenly felt compelled to speak his mind, turning to look at Aunt Petunia as he did so.

"Look, I don't know why I'm here honestly" he began.

"I originally only wanted to know that you had survived, and once I was informed that you had I was sure that I could forget about you and move on. And yet for some reason, that was not the case."

Dudley shifted uncomfortably, but gave an understanding nod. Vernon continued to glare at him as his face turned steadily more purple. But Harry was focused on Aunt Petunia. He had never understood Petunia's reasons for her treatment of him, but the pensive full of Snape's memories had enlightened him more in those few minutes than in the sixteen years he had spent living under her roof.

As he spoke, Petunia slowly raised her gaze from the floor and met his eyes, Lily's eyes, and Harry saw that hers were rather watery. Because try as she might to banish all affection she had for Lily, no matter how much bitterness and jealousy she had allowed to fill her heart, Petunia had still loved her sister.

And secretly and in much denial she had still felt the heartbreaking loss that was her death. And when Lily's son had been delivered to her doorstep she had found that she had no choice but to take him in, even though it meant staring into his eyes, Lily's eyes, every single day and being reminded of the sister that she had lost all those years ago, when she had put her jealousy before her family. And as she stared into those eyes once more Petunia was hit with a wave of remorse so harsh that she turned abruptly and walked shakily from the room.

Never before had Harry understood quite so clearly what Dumbledore had meant all those times he had explained how love was the strongest and most complicated thing in existence.

Vernon's bewildered eyes followed Petunia from the room before he turned to Harry with a glare.

"Now see what you've done Boy! You've upset your Aunt and I'll not tolerate it! I don't know why you've come crawling back here again but I'll not stand for-"

But before Vernon could say exactly what he would not stand for, Dudley impatiently cut him off, speaking to his father in an almost patronizing voice that Harry had never heard before.

"Dad will you just give it a rest already? You do realize he practically saved the world right? Our lot just doesn't know about it."

Harry, astonished by these words, took in Dudley's appearance for the first time since he had bounded down the stairs, and came to the shocking conclusion that Dudley looked _good_. He had lost a fair amount of weight and was now more muscular than anything, and his haircut and clothes made him look older and more mature than the pudgy toddler-like boy Harry remembered. More importantly was the expression on his cousin's face as the normal dumb scowl was replaced with cheerfulness as Dudley happily turned back to Harry.

"Anyway Harry, shall I make a cup of tea? Then maybe you could tell me about your point of view of The Battle of Hogwarts? I want to hear how you tricked You-Know-Who into thinking you were dead!" Without waiting for a response Dudley strode off to the kitchen, whistling merrily as he went, leaving a completely dumbfounded Harry staring after him.

In the awkward silence that followed, Harry curiously met Vernon's thunderstruck expression, now wondering more than ever what had happened in the months they had been apart.

Vernon clearly had not changed one bit, but Harry wondered how he felt about these drastic transformations in his wife and son. Taking in his positively furious demeanor Harry knew that his uncle did not like it one bit. He himself felt more than a little unsettled by these changes, and found that he was oddly comforted by the familiarity of Vernon fuming in front of him, the vein in his neck pulsating rhythmically.

Harry considered leaving right then. After all, he had satisfied his need to see for himself that the Dursleys had survived. But now confusion and doubt began to fill his head, and he knew that he could not leave until he understood why two of the three Dursleys were suddenly so…well there really wasn't a word for it.

With a sigh and running his fingers through his hair again, Harry walked right past Vernon- ignoring his noise of outrage- as he made his way to the sitting room, determined to get to the bottom of things once and for all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Surprise! Two updates in the same week! I couldn't wait to post this chapter and so many of you kept telling me to update that I just couldn't help it :3 Thank you to all who reviewed, PMed, favorited, and followed. There will be one more chapter after this one, an epilogue of sorts. I do not own Harry Potter**

Chapter 6:

Harry made his way down the familiar hallway, pausing only for a moment as he passed the small cupboard under the stairs. It reminded him of very different times, back when he was just a scared, hungry boy who had no future and could not understand why his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin loathed him so much. But Harry Potter was no longer that scared little boy who had been locked in a cupboard, and as he heard Vernon's impatient snort behind him he strode past the tiny door and into the sitting room, where he found Aunt Petunia sitting in the big armchair with her head in her hands.

Ignoring Vernon's attempt to appear intimidating behind him, Harry walked leisurely to the couch and sat across from Aunt Petunia, taking a deep breath as he wondered how to begin. As he gazed at Aunt Petunia, still refusing to meet his eyes, he knew exactly how to start.

"It's always the eyes isn't it?" He said simply.

Petunia gave a jolt and raised her head to stare at him, her eyes still watery as Harry continued.

"Every person I've ever met who knew my parents always begins by telling me that I look exactly like my father. Except for my eyes. I have my mother's eyes. Don't I Aunt Petunia?"

The moment he had seen Vernon's smirk Harry had decided that he would no longer address him as "Uncle". He knew that no matter what happened this afternoon Vernon would never change his hostilities towards Harry. You see, Vernon did not have any connections to Harry that could ever change his mind. Harry had not saved his life as he had Dudley's, nor was Harry's mother Vernon's biological sister. Aunt Petunia on the other hand was truly related to Harry by blood, and no matter how confused he was by her behaviors towards him, she would always be his aunt.

Aunt Petunia only looked shocked for a moment, before her features suddenly sank into a rather defeated look as she let out a sigh and relaxed into the chair, finally meeting Harry's gaze as she spoke in a resigned and faintly sad tone.

"Yes, you have Lily's exact eyes. I saw them the moment I found you on our front porch, before I read the letter that informed me I would be looking into those eyes and thinking of my sister, and the last opinions she had of me before she died, almost every day."

Petunia raised a hand firmly to stop Harry as he opened his mouth to respond, pausing for a moment before continuing.

"I detested you for the way you ruined my perfect little world, a world where I did not have to question my past jealousies or think about the sister I lost. And then when you got that letter, the same letter that she had gotten so many years ago, the same letter that had turned the love I had for my sister to bitterness, I loathed you all the more. But none of it was your fault, and finally I am able to realize that."

Her eyes were still watering, but Petunia held Harry's gaze unwaveringly. The shallowness of her mind had been created by Petunia herself after years of being jealous and bitter. But ever since Harry had saved her son from the creatures she had once heard Lily talking about, all of the feelings and memories she had buried long ago had begun to prod their way back into her mind. And now, staring at the boy she had raised but never shown kindness to, all of the bitterness and jealousy fled her mind until all she felt was regret.

Sniffing, Petunia wiped her eyes firmly with the handkerchief she withdrew from her pocket, composing herself.

Harry was speechless at Aunt Petunia's confession. While he had hoped that she would give him some sort of vague explanation, he had never expected this. For the first time Harry understood why his Aunt had been so cruel to him, and once again he realized how right Dumbledore had been about love being a powerful and complicated thing. And while Harry did not exactly feel love as he looked at his Aunt, he also realized that he did not feel any grudges or ill-feelings towards her.

"You're not the only person who resented me for my eyes you know." He finally spoke, filling the silence. "Severus Snape also had that reaction. Although I think he resented my father's parts of my looks more."

Petunia's brow furrowed as she looked up "Snape? You know Snape?"

"He was a professor at Hogwarts" Harry replied. "He hated me for being James's son, but saved my life for being Lily's. He died still loving her as he gave his memories of her to me. And he really did drop that tree branch on you on purpose" Harry finished with a grin.

A wave of emotions flitted across Petunia's horsey face as he spoke, and she seemed astounded by his knowledge of her and Snape's history. But after a moment she returned his grin with a small smile of her own as she reflected on that memory. It was the first time either had smiled at each other, and after a minute they both looked away awkwardly.

Glancing around the room Harry noticed that Vernon was still standing in the doorway, looking completely dumbfounded before noticing Harry's gaze and glaring furiously. He abruptly turned to stomp out of the room, almost running into Dudley as he entered balancing a teapot and some mugs. Dudley looked curiously after his father before turning back towards Harry and grinning broadly at him as he set the tea down and settled in the other armchair next to his mother.

Petunia still looking rather awkward stood shakily and mumbled something about going to check on something before hurriedly walking from the room. Harry watched her as she left, knowing that she needed time to get used to all of the new emotions she was feeling. Turning back to Dudley, who was looking rather like a kid trying to contain himself on Christmas morning, Harry had to stifle a sudden urge to laugh.

"So Big D, what I want to know is how on _earth_ you know about The Battle of Hogwarts, let alone details about it"

And Dudley launched into explanations about the friendship he'd developed with Dedalus Diggle, the stories that Diggle had told him and their continued correspondence, and the project that Dudley was working on, as Harry completely bemused answered all of the questions Dudley asked him as best he could. Eventually Aunt Petunia returned and listened quietly as her son quizzed her nephew about his experiences.

It had gotten dark outside by the time Harry finished explaining his point of view of the final battle to Dudley's satisfaction, and all three looked around in surprise at how late it was. They listened for a few minutes to Vernon deliberately stomping around loudly upstairs before Harry finally rose to his feet. Dudley looked immensely disappointed, but stood as well and reached out to shake Harry's hand.

He looked at the floor awkwardly for a few moments before speaking.

"So, er…did you find out what you came here for then?"

Harry glanced at Aunt Petunia before responding.

"Yeah Dudley, I believe that I did. I don't think that I will ever have an urge to come to this house again thankfully."

Dudley looked crestfallen, but nodded miserably. Harry allowed himself a small smirk before continuing.

"However, that doesn't mean that I couldn't come to London once every little while and meet you at one of the pubs. I am very interested in this project of yours you see, and would like to help in any way that I can" he said, returning Dudley's hopeful look with a smile.

It was with quite a gleeful air that Dudley left the room to clean their dishes, after Harry scribbled down his contact information so that Dudley could owl him. Harry then turned to Aunt Petunia who silently gestured him out of the room and walked him to the front door. They stared at each other before Aunt Petunia broke the silence

"So I guess you got the closure that you needed then, so you won't be returning to this house ever again?" she asked briskly.

Harry shook his head. "No, I see no need to ever come back here. It does not hold any happy memories for me and I am ready to leave Privet Drive behind me for good."

Aunt Petunia nodded, her face expressionless as she made to open the door, but Harry stopped her.

"However, I am open to starting fresh elsewhere with you the same way I am with Dudley. We could meet somewhere in London and grab a bite to eat and catch up once in a while. If you would be open to it that is."

Aunt Petunia's head snapped up in surprise and she opened and closed her mouth several times before she spoke in a rather strangled voice.

"Yes, I…I think that would be quite acceptable." She seemed to regain some of her old waspishness as she continued "Although I would prefer that you contact me through regular post. I simply won't tolerate owls making a mess of my kitchen."

Hiding a smile Harry agreed, and after nodding his goodbye to his Aunt he opened the door to the cool, clear summer night. Before stepping outside however, he suddenly had a spark of mischievousness, and turned and yelled up the stairs "Goodbye Vernon! Tell Marge I say hi!" and chortled as he left the house, hearing furious obscenities as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

Harry felt very light as he walked to the end of the drive before apparating straight to the Burrow. He could see the Weasleys's silhouettes moving around inside the house as he stood for a few moments and enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness in his mind for the first time since he could remember. Finally, whistling, he followed the smell of whatever delicious meal Molly had cooked for dinner into the house, unaware of the broad smile on his face.

* * *

Petunia stood in the parlor for several minutes, listening to Vernon raging upstairs. Then she remembered that Dudley had taken it upon himself to take the dishes from the tea to the kitchen to clean them, and knew that he had probably done a bad job of it. As she hurried to the kitchen however, there was a small smile on her face as she thought of a tea place in London that would be a perfect place to meet someone.

* * *

Vernon was fuming as he stomped down the upstairs hallway towards his room, but found a small bit of vindictive pleasure that The Boy had finally left, and from what he had heard would never be coming back. But as Vernon passed a large mirror hanging in the hallway, he paused for a minute and noticed that his face was the exact shade of brilliant purple that he could not quite get it to be when he yelled at his employees, and the vein in his neck was pulsing more than it ever had before. In spite of himself it was with a small smirk that Vernon stomped the rest of the way down the hall to the master bedroom, before slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Dudley had excitedly returned to his room, locking the door behind him and all but sprinting to his desk. He immediately began to scribble down notes of all of the things Harry had said, writing feverishly before he could forget anything. For you see, with the help of Dedalus and the permission of the Ministry of Magic's Muggle Relations committee, Dudley Dursley was writing and designing a series of comic books featuring the stories of his hero. The Ministry had given Dudley a set of rules to follow and his final products would need to be reviewed by the committee before he was allowed to publish them, to make sure they did not reveal that any of the stories or characters were actually real, but he had been given permission to release them to the to the muggle world as fictional comics afterwards.

Dudley only paused for a moment to glace at the picture frame on his desk. He'd had quite a shock when he opened the chocolate frog Dedalus gave him while they were in hiding and saw the card inside. Knowing that Vernon would go through his suitcase when they returned, he had left a decoy box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in plain sight in his bag, knowing that his father would then not search all of the random pockets. It was because of this that the frame on Dudley's desk now held a chocolate frog card bearing the name "Harry James Potter" as the moving occupant of the card grinned sheepishly around from the frame. Dudley once again marveled at the fact that his own cousin was a hero, before continuing writing and illustrating into the early hours of the morning.


	7. Epilogue

**A/N: Surprise! I decided to hurry up and post the last chapter. Thank you to all who have supported me throughout the writing of this story. I was nervous since it was my first story, but all of you were so supportive and helpful and I really appreciate it! I don't know if I will be writing another story any time soon, but I am definitely leaning towards it. So here's the last chapter! I do not own Harry Potter**

Epilogue:

Harry strode through the grounds, leisurely making his way up to Hogwarts. It had been a long time since he had visited, and taking in the familiar setting around him was giving him a wave of nostalgia. He smiled as he gazed at the lake and remembered the perfect afternoons he had spent sitting with Ginny in the shade of the trees.

His very pregnant wife was currently at home, grumpily staying indoors and resting on this hot summer day while James and Albus were on a playdate at Ron and Hermione's. The baby was beginning to get very restless and kicked almost constantly, so Harry was anxious to return home since Ginny could go into labor any day now. Ginny claimed that she must be pregnant with a girl this time, because only a girl could be this high maintenance, and Harry secretly agreed.

He had no idea why Headmistress McGonagall had owled him the previous evening requesting that he meet with her at his earliest convenience. While James was not yet old enough to receive his Hogwarts letter, he definitely showed early signs of having magic, as did Albus, so he knew she was not meeting with him to tell him either of his children were squibs.

He had reached the castle and now stepped inside the Great Hall, looking around at the familiar high ceilings and paintings. Hogwarts had been restored almost perfectly from the damage of the final battle, and he could not wait for his sons to get to experience the magic of it as he had.

Making his way up the winding staircase, Harry saw Peeves floating a little ways ahead of him and instinctively ducked into a hidden alcove. This turned out to be a good decision on his part, because moments later Peeves sent a hideous vase barreling down the stairs. Harry chuckled as he noticed that the vase looked a lot like one Aunt Petunia had bought him and Ginny a few years ago for Christmas.

When the coast was clear and he continued up the staircase again he thought about all of Aunt Petunia's interesting gifts over the years, which she thought were just darling.

Both Petunia and Harry had kept true to their agreement to stay in touch. At first they had met about once a month at a tea place in London, where they'd had a series of awkward conversations filled with much eye-avoiding. But as time went on these talks became less and less awkward until they became downright friendly. Petunia had even attended Harry and Ginny's wedding, definitely nervous to be surrounded by so many wizards, but encouraged by the sight of her son standing up front as one of the groomsmen.

Ginny still held a grudge against Petunia for her treatment of Harry as a child, but while she did not understand Harry's insistence to forgive her, she maintained a civil manner and occasionally joined Harry when he visited her.

As he reached the second floor and continued climbing, Harry's thoughts turned to Dudley.

Dudley's comic book series had been very successful in the muggle world after their release, immediately becoming best sellers. Dudley definitely had a knack for illustrating, but it was to Harry's immense surprise and embarrassment when wizards began buying them as well, even though the drawings did not move as they did in wizard comic books. The series soon became a best seller among the wizarding world as well, since they all wanted to know the entire story of their Chosen One. Harry was rather mortified, but Dudley was thrilled.

Soon after the series began to be sold in book stores in Diagon Alley, Dudley had received a visit from Dedalus Diggle and the Head of the Muggle Relations Committee. Diggle had gleefully informed Dudley that the ministry had decided to make an exception and allow Dudley to move into a room in the Leaky Cauldron, where he could continue his work on the series and possibly begin other projects as well if he wished to.

Dudley was thrilled and had packed up all of his things at once. Petunia was distraught that her "Diddykins" was moving out, but accepted the fact that he was moving into a residence in the wizarding realm, happy that he was happy. Both had decided to keep the news of Dudley's "corruption" from Vernon, who was happily oblivious to the world of comic books and believed Dudley to be an insurance broker living in a normal apartment in London.

Harry grinned in spite of himself as he reached the third floor and made his way down the long hallway that led to the stone gargoyle.

It was at the Leaky Cauldron that Dudley had met Amelia Dobkins, who had been a Hufflepuff one year above Harry at Hogwarts. She was a big fan of Dudley's comic books, and after initially meeting him and finding out he was the illustrator she had returned to the Leaky Cauldron every afternoon.

The two had spent much time with each other, showing off their separate worlds and educating each other on them, and Harry had soon found himself in the Best Man position at Dudley's wedding to Amelia.

Vernon remained blissfully ignorant about Amelia's heritage, but Petunia knew and absolutely adored the girl regardless. Amelia gave birth to a daughter soon after their marriage, and seeing Dudley wrapped around little Phoebe's finger had caused Harry to realize that miracles really do happen.

Dudley and Harry had remained quite close, seeing each other at least once a week, and even Ginny had warmed up to him after a little while. Even though Phoebe was several years older than James and Albus, the three often had playdates and got along very well as their parents talked and caught up.

Shaking his head at the mysterious workings of fate, Harry reached the stone gargoyle and repeated the password Minerva had included in her letter ("Severus") and ascended the spiral steps. After knocking twice on the door, he entered the familiar office.

Minerva had not changed much since he had last been inside, and Harry was strongly reminded of Dumbledore as he looked around, Dumbledore's portrait sleeping peacefully behind the desk. McGonagall looked up from sheaves of paperwork as he entered, and rose from the desk with a small smile, wearing the same square glasses and pointed hat that Harry remembered.

"It's good to see you Mr. Potter. I hope everything is well?" McGonagall asked briskly, shaking his hand.

"Very well Minerva. Although I must say I was quite surprised to receive your owl."

Gesturing for him to sit, McGonagall settled herself back in the chair behind her desk, shuffling a few papers aside and withdrawing a crisp piece of paper. Looking at it primly for a few minutes, McGonagall then turned her attention to Harry.

"Mr. Potter I will get right to the point since Merlin knows that wife of yours will want you back home promptly."

Harry grinned at her and she allowed herself a small smile before continuing.

"I have called you here for a rather unconventional reason. You see, it is tradition that when a child possessing wizarding qualities reaches their eleventh birthday they receive their Hogwarts Letter by Owl, inviting them to attend the school."

Harry nodded, confused. This was very common knowledge and he was not sure where McGonagall was going with this. She suddenly appeared to be suppressing amusement, and had to compose herself before turning to Harry again, holding up the piece of parchment she held.

"Mr. Potter I called you in here today because I thought than rather than allowing this letter to be delivered by Owl, you might want to do it personally."

No longer able to contain her smile, McGonagall handed the letter to Harry and he curiously began to read it.

 _Dear Ms. Dursley,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment-_

Harry stopped reading abruptly and stared at McGonagall in astonishment, who was now holding a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Then, breaking into a large grin, he stood and shook her hand.

"Thank you Headmistress, I definitely would prefer to deliver this letter in person, and I appreciate you giving me the option."

After saying their farewells, Harry walked quickly from the office, reaching the hallway in front of the gargoyle before bursting into roars of laughter.

Yes, the world worked in mysterious ways. Years ago Harry would have never believed that Dudley's daughter, Aunt Petunia and Vernon's granddaughter, would be a witch and attend Hogwarts. But now he held her Hogwarts Letter in his hands, and he could not wait to tell her and Dudley, who he knew would be thrilled. Even though Amelia was a witch, Harry had never once considered that any child related to Vernon would ever possess magical qualities.

Shaking his head and grinning from ear to ear Harry made his way out of the castle and into the blazing sun. Beaming up at it for a moment, Harry resolved to go straight home to his wife, cook her a magnificent dinner, and tell her the news. Then tomorrow he would visit his cousin.

Life was good and seemed to just keep getting better.

The Dursleys had not been a source of pain or bitterness for Harry for many years. All was well.


End file.
